Don't Tell Me
by rachelberrys
Summary: (Based *loosely* on Katy Perry's Circle The Drain) One shot. Sam shows up at Blaine's house drunk. Blaine gets upset when Sam says something he only says because he's been drinking


I own no one/nothing.

_You've become what you despise,_  
_ A stereotype_  
_ You think you're so rock and roll,_  
_ But you're really just a joke._  
_ Had the world in the palm of your hands,_  
_ But you fucking choked_  
_ Should've been my team mate,_  
_ Could've changed your fate,_  
_ You say that you love me,_  
_ You won't remember in the morning._

A banging on the door at 1:17 am is what woke Blaine Anderson up from his slumber. He was having a nice dream, one where he was exploring a forest with unicorns and super friendly dragons.

"Shit… what the…" Blaine woke up and looked at the time; he had fallen asleep on the couch while watching reruns of old episodes of The Simpsons, his parents were away for the weekend at a wedding.

He walked cautiously to the constant banging at the door, which was completely unnecessary in the middle of the night. Through the peep hole he could see the person behind the bangs was Sam Evans, his best friend (and guilty pleasure). Even though he was incredibly curious as to why Sam was there, he was excited. He loved Sam and the best part of everyday was seeing him.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" Blaine's voice was tired and deep, breaking slightly as he spoke. He was in the middle of rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Dude, can I come in?"

Blaine stepped to the side with the door open allowing Sam to come in.

"What are you doing awake..." He thought for a second. "And at my house at 1 am?"

"I wanted to see you!" Sam reached his hand out to pat Blaine on the shoulder, but missing his arm entirely. Sam's eyes were heavy and his hair was a mess.

Blaine shut the door and stared at him in confusion. He wasn't even awake enough yet to realize what was happening. He left Sam in the foyer and walked to the kitchen, just through the hallway. He got a glass of water for both himself and for Sam. "Wait, why are you here?" He was waking up a bit more and could see clearly now that Sam was not himself.

"I told you man!" He stopped talking for a second. "You look good tonight!" Sam said with a drunken smile on his face.

"Sam… are you drunk?"

"Uh, no I only, I had, only the few of them."

"Sam, that sentence made no sense at all." He motioned to the glass of water he put in front of Sam to encourage him to take a drink, which he did.

"Okay, Blaine, see, what you need to know is Blaine I just I wanted to just see you and maybe hang out with you tonight with you."

"How drunk ARE you?"

"Okay, uhm," Sam made an honest effort to answer Blaine's question. "I had a few drinks with Puck and then he left and then I had a few more drinks and now I'm here."

"Why did you come here? Why didn't you just stay home?" Blaine leaned against the counter.

"I told you, I really just wanted to see you."

Blaine rolled his eyes and blushed a little before Sam moved in closer to him. "You look really good Blaine. Like, really."

"Sam, you're drunk. Do you want to stay here tonight?"

"I wanna stay with you."

"Okay well," Blaine stepped away from the counter and walked towards the doorway, his arm around Sam's waist, helping his walk properly. "Why don't you come with me? I'll set you up in my room and I can sleep on the couch."

"Or we could both sleep in your room."

Blaine laughed a little to himself at Sam's proposition while leading him up the stairs. They walked into Blaine's dark room and rather than turning on the light he turned on a side lamp so that Sam wasn't shocked by the sudden brightness. "Do you want something else to wear? Did you want some pajama pants or something?"

"I can just sleep in my boxers."

"Okay, you do that, I'm gonna go get you some water and a bucket so you don't get sick in my bed."

"Okay, you do…that." Sam said as he pointed at Blaine. Once Blaine left the room he took off his shirt and his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers and he sat on the bed waiting for Blaine to return.

"Okay," He said as he walked into his bedroom. "Here's some water, and a bucket, please, Sam, if you're gonna be sick try not to do it in my bed."

"Blaine do I look good?" He rubbed his hand along his stomach.

Blaine hated that he was attracted to Sam because he was his best friend, and he didn't want to ruin anything, but he couldn't deny that yeah, the boy half naked sitting in his bed looked good, and if he wasn't drunk Blaine's almost ashamed to admit he would be all over him at that moment. "You look fine, Sam. If you need anything, call for me; don't try to walk down the stairs if you're drunk. They're really steep."

"Wait…" Sam got off the bed to pull Blaine in to a hug. "Thanks, man." As he pulled back he left his hands on Blaine's shoulder, looking at him. "Blaine I'm sitting on your bed right now, in my boxers, telling YOU that YOU look amazing and are you really just gonna walk away and go down stairs?" Sam looked at him with an overly animated face of curiosity. His question was surprisingly clear and well spoken.

"You're drunk, I'm not gonna take advantage of you. You're my best friend."

"I'm not that drunk."

"Your breath smells like a bottle of vodka."

He was right, Sam was drunk enough Blaine was surprised he was conscious.

Sam let his hands slide down the sides of Blaine's arms before reaching his hands. "I wanna do things with you." Sam moved in closer to hold Blaine, almost as if they were dancing, chest to chest. "Please."

Blaine laughed self-consciously. "Sam, stop." The flirting felt a little nice, but he felt kind of guilty.

"No, come on…" Sam let his hands trail along the hem of Blaine's shirt before slipping his hands underneath his shirt, his cold hands on Blaine's warm body. "I know… that you want to do this, right?"

Blaine was having a hard time resisting with their hips almost flat against each other and his hands touching his stomach. Sam's touch was intoxicating; Blaine had been craving it for so long. Blaine wanted so badly to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him and be with him. "I don't think…" he could barely get a sentence out before Sam moved one of his hands slowly into his track pants. The sudden touch of another person on Blaine knocked him back into reality. "No. No, Sam, no." He gently nudged Sam away from him without being harsh.

"Blaine, I love you let's just…"

"Don't!" Blaine switched from gently nudging him away to shoving him back into sitting on the bed by pushing on his shoulders.

Sam sat on the bed, dumbfounded but Blaine's sudden outburst.

"I thought you liked me." Sam said, innocently. He didn't understand why someone who has made it clear that there is an attraction would push him away when he wanted to be with him.

"Don't you understand?" Blaine crossed his arms across his chest. "I do, Sam. I like you a lot, and even though you're stupidly drunk right now, I was so excited to see you because I like spending time with you, but not…not like this." His eyes were glossing over.

"I just told you that-" Sam tried to speak but Blaine cut him off.

"That you love me, yeah. I wish you _could_, and yeah, I wish you _did_ and I would love to hear that but not when you're too drunk to remember it in the morning."

Sam ducked his head, knowing Blaine was right. He was incredibly drunk but the tiny bit of common sense he had left trying to shine through was telling him that he crossed a lot.

"I'm going downstairs to bed. If you need anything, call me. Okay?"

Sam nodded and pulled the covers over him, watching as Blaine walked to the door.

"And Sam… try not to need anything."

Blaine shut the door and went back down to the couch where the TV was still airing old episodes of The Simpsons. Blaine was almost 100% sure Sam wouldn't remember what he said in the morning and he had no plan on bringing it up.


End file.
